


I'll Burn Down The World (If Only For A Moment With You)

by QueenOfNewOrleans22



Category: Mötley Crüe, The Dirt (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:29:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28392435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfNewOrleans22/pseuds/QueenOfNewOrleans22
Summary: In a world where soul mates exist, it takes Mick one failed marriage and two years to find his.
Relationships: Mick Mars/Nikki Sixx
Comments: 8
Kudos: 18





	I'll Burn Down The World (If Only For A Moment With You)

When Mick Mars, who was then known as Robert Alan Deal, or 'Robbie' to his parents, was seven years old, he looked down at his arm and found that there was a sizeable bruise on his wrist, like fingers had been wrapped around and pulled taut, digging into sensitive skin. He had frowned, and looked up at his father, who was fixing his motorcycle a few feet away. 

"Dad." Robert held out his arm expectantly, knowing that no such event had taken place to leave him with such an injury. The kids at school hsd been leaving him alone for the last few days, and no kid could leave a mark like that. Mr. Deal had reached out and took his son's arm in his hand, examining it closely, before giving a shadow of a smile. 

"Looks like you got yourself a soulmate, Robbie." Mr. Deal said. 

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Sharon frowned, her eyebrows dragging down towards her eyes, strands of blonde hair falling from her loose bun. She was dressed in nothing but a thin nightgown, and she shied away from Mick's touch, so he pulled away and stared at her, confused. 

"What?" Mick said, not understanding the sudden shyness. "Are you okay?" He asked, pausing to listen for perhaps the sound of one of the kids crying out for somebody to come save them from an imaginary monster, but, for once, all was quiet and all was still.

A weary sigh fell from Sharon's lips, and she looked liked she was pitying Mick for his clueless mind. "You've got a scar on your hip." She said. "And it's not mine." 

It took a minute for the significance of her words to clear their way into Mick's head, and after a too-long pause, he finally nodded. "Okay." 

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For awhile, Mick had carried bruises on his body, cuts on his face and hands. The teachers were always asking, always calling CPS until his parents had said that it was just the 'soulmate thing', that nothing bad or violent was going on in their home, that their child's future spouse had a bad home life, but not their own. Mick always hated having to attend those meetings, where his parents would painstakingly explain for the hundredth time that they weren't the abusive ones. 

But that anger would soon be overshadowed by his concern whenever a new bruise blossomed on his pale skin, and that concern was replaced by full-blown worry when, at nineteen years old, Mick was diagnosed with Ankylosing Spondylitis and his third thought, after ' _is it fatal?'_ and ' _am I going to be able to live a normal life?'_ was ' _will this effect my soulmate?'_

After all, Mick had carried his soulmate's bruises and lacerations and burns for so many years, and his soulmate had undoubtedly received his own share of injuries from Mick's end, so why should he not feel this? The injuries were painless, but that didn't erase the terrible fear that his soulmate would have to deal with this, too. 

The doctor was quick to assure Mick that soul mates only got the temporary wounds and scars - anything chronic wasn't shared. "Don't worry." He'd said. "Your soulmate won't feel a thing, and his spine will be fine." 

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"You look like rock n' roller type." The kid behind the counter said. 

Mick looked up, eyes narrowed and skeptical, his hands frozen from where he'd been counting his twenties. "Huh?" He said. 

The kid's nametag read 'Frank', and he had a small cut underneath his chin. "You look like a rock n' roller type." He repeated, taking the offered money. 

Although there was a fleeting though about his identical cut on his own chin, there was nothing that was said. Coincidences were common, and Mick didn't need a soulmate to add trouble to his life, too. "Thanks, kid." He said, and then he paused. "Hey, do you want to come and see me play?" 

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The kid was intelligent and crass and he gave Mick his number for whatever reason but then Mick went and lost it like a dunce and now he was miles away from that liquor store and thinking about that cut. ' _It was nothing.'_ He tried to tell himself, picking at a hang nail and listening as the bassist and keyboardist yelled at each other like children. ' _Cuts on chins. Happens all the time.'_

_\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

Mick had placed an ad in the newspaper. 

It was kinda pathetic, except Mick had hit rock bottom and had no way to go but down, so he just kept digging. 

"Hey, are you the guy that placed the ad in the newspaper?" A guy asked on the other line, his tone hidden under a thin veil of excitement. "The one who described himself as 'loud and aggressive?'" In the background, there was a shushing noise, and then somebody yelled out a curse.

Mick should've taken that as a sign, but he didn't. "Yes." He replied. 

"Well, my friend and I are making this band, and we need somebody whose loud and aggressive and can fit the bill." The guy said. "I'm a drummer and my friend's a bassist, all we need is a guitarist and a singer." 

Pausing in his book, Mick wondered what could possibly go wrong - the worst that could happen was that the band, or half of the band, anyways, sucked, and he was back at ground zero. "Okay. Where do I need to go to?" 

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Tommy Lee was a scrawny, messy-haired little freak who talked and rambled with no care in the world, and Mick immediately felt endeared toward the kid, who was far too young to be a band, but he was willing to make an exception, because the kid had talent. 

Nikki Sixx was cold and rude but he had a nice smile and pretty green eyes and looked dreadfully familiar. Mick spent two days staring at Nikki and wondering why he looked familiar before finally saying something about it. 

While Tommy played around with his drums a few feet away, Mick turned around and squared eyes. "Have I seen you anywhere, Nikki?" He asked. 

With thin lips twisted into a smile, Nikki looked up toward the ceiling. "You remember that one time you went to that liquor store on the corner street, and there was a kid named Frank?" 

Mick nodded. "You were Frank." He said recognizing the jet black hair almost immediately after the words. 

Nikki nodded. "Once, I was." 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They had a lead singer now. 

His name was Vince Neil, and he was a pampered little primadonna, but he had a good voice, and he was nice enough, so they kept him. Vince hadn't found his soulmate, either, and neither had Tommy, so, in a way, they were united by that one single reason, no matter their vast differences. 

Mick was sitting out by the hotel's pool, his feet dipped into the heated water as he watched Tommy joke around and Vince snap irritably at him. It was a hot summer day, and Mick had hoped that it would stay that way - at least, for a little awhile, but then Nikki had come out of the hotel, and he wasn't wearing a shirt.

Glancing up, Mick's eyes skimmed Nikki's bare torso, and although he was caught up in multiple problems ( _oh my fuck you're not gay and you're definitely not gay for this kid)_ the most glaring of which was that Nikki had a small scar on his hip. 

Thankfully, Mick was wearing a shirt, but the sight made his heart skip several beats, and he remembered the cut that they'd shared a fea years prior. "When did you get that?" Mick asked, motioning vaguely to the scar. 

Nikki pursed his lips. "When I was a kid. Why?" He asked. 

"No reason." Mick prayed that there wasn't, anyways. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"This can't be possible. He's your bandmate!" Mick stared at himself in the mirror.

The mirror stared back. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the distance, there was the distinct sound of angry yelling, and glass breaking. 

The smarter part of Mick wanted to just stay outside and finish his smoke, but he didn't exactly want do spend another few years finding a band, so he stubbed out the cigarette and turned around, walking back into the dimly lit bar, shouldering his way past men and women and not caring who it hurt. 

Just as Mick made it to the clearing in the middle of it all, Vince was being strangled by a prick in black and Tommy was trying to pull the prick away but it wasn't working and Nikki was introducing some guy's face with his fist. 

Mick shoved the prick away, grabbed Vince, and shoved him toward Tommy, ignoring the volatile yells that followed by _somebody,_ and then he walked over and wrenched Nikki away. 

The night air was bitterly cold, and Mick stared as Vince rubbed his throat without the slightest bit of pity. "You're all such fucking idiots. I can't believe that you would start fights with a guy that's five inches and fifty poinds bigger than you and my - " 

"Mick." Tommy whispered. 

"What?" Mick snapped, but then he followed Tommy's gaze and looked sown at his hand, and saw that there was a long gash running across it, and blood slowly dripped onto the sidewalk, dark crimson against dull grey. And then he turned and stared at Nikki, who, similarly terrified, was holding his hand against his shirt, which was slowly turning red with blood. 

For a moment, there was only silence, and Vince made a faint noise of disbelief and Tommy's eyes were as wide as saucers and then Nikki turned around and began to walk away and Mick was only now feeling the pain, both mental and physical. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"This can't be happening." Nikki whispered, looking, for once, less like the adult that he kept pretending to be and more like the lost kid that he really was. "You can't be my soulmate." 

Mick wanted to shrug, but his shoulders felt locked up, so he just shrugged. "I hate to say it, but I don't want you to be soulmate just as much as you don't want me, but it's the sad goddamn truth." 

As if unable to handle the intensity, Nikki broke eye contact and looked down. "I can't deal with this. This is too fuckin' crazy, man, but I should've known, I _should've known,_ because we had the same cut and the same scar." Nikki lifted his hand, and watched as the blood spilt down. 

"It sucks, but it's the truth." Mick awkwardly sat down next to Nikki, not close enough to touch, but close enough that they could look at each other and whisper like two teenage girls divulging their inner secrets. "I'm just as scared as you are, but fate is fate, and we're attached, whether you like it or not." 

Nikki shut his eyes and took in a deep, shuddering breathe. "I didn't expect this." 

"I know. And I'm sorry that I didn't tell you earlier." Mick wasn't sure if he was allowed to touch Nikki or not, but his fingers were burning with the urge, and so he slowly reached up and touched the side of Nikki's neck, fingers grazing and wanting so much more, but Mick didn't dare. "Whatever you wanna do. However long you wanna wait. I'm okay." 

"Are you?" Nikki opened his eyes and turned his head. "Are you okay?" 

Mick nodded. "The ball's in your court. If you want to dive into this, then I'll dive with you. If you wanna forget that we ever met in the first place - " _(I would rather kill myself) "_ \- then that's okay, too." 

A flicker of a moment passed in hesitancy. "Are you okay with this?" Nikki said, and he leaned over, and kissed Mick, and it was the best goddamn thing in the world as far as Mick was concerned. Nikki was hot and yearning but, at the same time, cold and slow, but Mick didn't care, he only raised his hand and entangled it in Nikki's hair to keep him in place. 

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"Was that okay?" Nikki asked. 

Mick knew that he was in this for the long haul, and he didn't regret it one bit. "If you wanna do it again, then I wouldn't be complaining." 

And Nikki laughed in that way of his, equal parts biting and amused, and leaned in again. 


End file.
